The crowd seemed to take a collective sigh of relief as she arrived at the bottom of the stairs – she had seemed unshakably confident as she glided down the steps without so much as a glance toward her feet. No other could be as relieved as Hannah though. She had kept her eyes steadfastly on the face of her Father – the kindness and warmth in his eyes drew her to him. The rustling of the folds of her dress was the only sound to accompany the strings and it was deafening to her. As she arrived in front of her Father, he took her hand and bowed to kiss it.
The music for the Father-Daughter dance began and Hannah breathed deeply as the focus of all eyes in the ballroom lost their interest and transferred back to their respective conversations.
‘You are glorious this evening, my darling daughter,’ Vincent said by her ear as they danced.
‘Thank you, Father,’ Hannah responded, noting how breathless she sounded as she spoke. It was a combination, she concluded, of the headiness of her debut and the restriction of her corset.
As they danced, Vincent was acutely aware of the eyes upon them. He felt so proud – the crowd admiring her; ladies whispering to each other and smiling with approval. If only they knew, he thought covertly, how extremely talented she also was. Her affinity with art was not an activity his wife encouraged, but Vincent knew how much he had enjoyed draughtsmanship in his younger years and how he had been an acclaimed student in the topic. He understood, therefore, the enjoyment Hannah experienced in creating and he could relate to the satisfaction of completing an impressive piece. Despite his empathy, he allowed her mother to dictate what Hannah should or should not spend her time on. She had skill though, that much was undeniable.
Once their first dance had concluded and Hannah was free to mingle, she made it her sole intention to find Sophia and attempt to avoid as many well-intentioned comments from party guests that may act as an obstacle on the pathway to her friend. Hannah knew she was expected to meet new people and socialise – it was why her father had spent such a lot of money orchestrating this event – but first, she needed to decompress and dissect her staircase debut with her best friend.
‘Darling, you were stupendous!’ Sophia exclaimed as she embraced Hannah with gusto.
‘Never have I been so tremulous!’ confessed Hannah, trembling still slightly, at her friend’s shoulder as she received her warmth and comfort.
‘Gallant, composed and graceful…’ came a voice Hannah recognised. She extracted herself from Sophia’s grasp to look around and there she saw Lord Nathaniel Bryant, looking terribly grand in his finest apparel.
‘Lord Bryant! Nathaniel - a joy to see you!’ Hannah bobbed her head and shoulders in greeting.
Nathaniel bowed from the waist. ‘Truly, the pleasure, Lady Hannah, is entirely mine. What a splendid display and how elegant your appearance!’
‘Thank you, my Lord,’ Hannah replied – with any female friend, she would no doubt reveal the apprehension she’d experienced and her visceral belief that she had appeared ungainly and incompetent. For Nathaniel, she merely smiled with her gratitude.
The three of them found themselves standing by the refreshment table which displayed an indulgent array of choice.
‘Shall we have something to drink, ladies?’ suggested Nathaniel, gesturing toward the table.
‘I’m not sure I could consume anything in this corset,’ Hannah confided to Sophia, who giggled in response.
‘Do try,’ she whispered back.
Hannah simply watched as Nathaniel asked for a glass of wine, his cousin Sophia following suit with a delicate glass of lemonade. As they gathered their drinks, they looked to Hannah with expressions of encouragement. Hannah stepped forward and accepted a lemonade as well.
They went to a quiet corner and - keen to distract her friends from the unlikelihood of her drinking at all, due to both her waist restriction and her jittery nerves - Hannah launched into a topic she knew would engage them entirely.
‘Are the rumours correct, my lord, that you have discerningly procured an original Sir Thomas Lawrence portrait?’
Nathaniel’s eyes lit up at his favourite subject.
‘Indeed I did! My cousin has been offering up my gossip, no doubt?’ Nathaniel glanced playfully at Sophia, who smiled and shrugged.
‘Have you yet been in receipt of it, or are you anticipating delivery?’ Hannah asked, enviably.
‘Why it arrived just this afternoon. I had my steward affix it in the library, however, I am of the afterthought perhaps it should command elite positioning in the entranceway or lounge.’
‘But of course it should, dear cousin,’ Sophia insisted. ‘Tell me how rarely one might take tea in the library?’
Nathaniel laughed at the suggestion. ‘Well, never!’
‘Then you understand my point. Certainly, we should want to admire it whilst we take tea. I would suggest the dining room or drawing room would be most suitable.’
Nathaniel considered this, with a perplexed expression.
‘Whilst I appreciate your opinion is undoubtedly correct, I am conflicted as already the walls in both those sociable rooms are adorned by my absolute favourite paintings.’
Sophia’s eyes flicked to the left top corner of her vision, clearly recalling the pictures in her mind.
‘Theyarebold and handsome – compulsory assets to any artwork displayed in prime positions … however, I feel compelled to assert that the Sir Thomas Lawrence must be visible to all visitors. Such a commendable purchase and quite the talking point.’
